


twin pythagorean triple

by algebraicmutiny



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Drug Use, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Meta, No Incest, Short & Sweet, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 11:53:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18520993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/algebraicmutiny/pseuds/algebraicmutiny
Summary: Three, Four and Five. Five, Four and Three. This is how they start. This is how they end.





	twin pythagorean triple

**Author's Note:**

> ya these are my three fave characters and u can pry their friendship from my cold dead hands

Three, Four and Five. Five, Four and Three. This is how they start.  
  
xx  
  
"We're like, that maths thing!" Four exclaims, excitedly, looking up from the textbook his father had put in front of him that morning. They are eight years old. They do not have names yet, but they don't think about it. "Where three squared plus four squared equals five squared! That Pythagoras thing!"  
  
"Pythagorean triple," Five supplies, looking bored. "Twin pythagorean triple, to be exact, because there are two consecutive numbers."  
  
"Is there one for three consecutive numbers?" Three asks, curious. Their voices echo around the large library.  
  
"Don't be stupid," Five says matter of factly. Three just scowls at him.  
  
"Maybe," Four chirps. "I wouldn't know, I don't like maths. Five likes maths!"  
  
"I do like maths," Five muses.  
  
"Five didn't answer my question, though," Three snaps, feeling wounded at Five's sharp words, and he fixes her with a look.  
  
"Yes, I did," he says snarkily. "I told you to stop being stupid."  
  
"Shut up," she says. He sticks his tongue out at her in a rare display of childishness, and she wrinkles her nose.  
  
"I wonder how much maths there is," Four ponders, seemingly oblivious to his siblings' bickering.  
  
"A lot," Five says helpfully. He turns another page in his notebook, and Four nods seriously, seeming to find this answer satisfactory.  
  
Three thinks that her two favourite brothers are very stupid. "Does anyone want to get ice cream?" she asks. "I can rumour some off the man in the store down the street!"  
  
"Theft!" Four shouts excitedly. "I love stealing!"  
  
"It's technically not theft if he gives it to us," Three argues uncertainly. Her moral compass isn't quite steady yet. It won't be for a very long time. "Besides, I'm sure he wouldn't mind."  
  
"Semantics," Five sighs, shutting his book and standing up. Three doesn't understand that word. She hates when he uses big words that he knows the rest of them don't understand. It's really annoying. "Let's go, then."  
  
Three and Four grab onto one of Five's hands each. "Don't puke this time," Five advises Four.  
  
"You're annoying," Three says, and then they pop away in a flash of blue light. Three-four-five.  
  
Four does, in fact, puke.  
  
xx  
  
They are ten years old, and they have names. They are no longer three-four-five.  
  
Allison doesn't know how to feel about this, but she puts on a charming smile as usual, gushes over her new name and thanks their mother profusely. Later, when she's creeping to Four-- Klaus'-- room, she thinks about the implications of it. No more three-four-five.  
  
She feels inexplicably sad.  
  
Four-- Klaus-- throws open his door when she raps on it quietly, ushering her in. Five is already there, sitting with his watch and his notebook out, scribbling furiously. Allison shakes her head fondly.  
  
"Everyone ready?" Klaus whispers excitedly, eyes glinting. Allison is going to have to get used to calling him that in her head. He flings himself onto the bed and wraps himself up in the duvet, spreading his arms wide so he looks like some kind of very large bat with the covers over his shoulders.  
  
She laughs, crawling up next to him. "Five, come on, get over here."  
  
Five grumbles a little before snapping his notebook shut, putting it and the watch down on the bedside table before jumping onto the bed with them, huddling up on Klaus' other side, and Klaus drops his arms arms over his siblings so that the duvet is covering all three of them.  
  
They're silent for a while, just listening to each other breathing, before Five speaks up.  
  
"Do you like your new names?" he asks softly, fiddling with Klaus' curls.  
  
Allison mulls it over for a second. Klaus seems to do the same, before saying, "I've only ever heard the name Klaus in movies. It's a German name, right? Am I German?"  
  
"Maybe," Allisons replies. "Do you think Mum would know that?"  
  
"Probably not," Five says dismissively. "Dad doesn't tell her anything."  
  
"How do you know?" Allison asks, puzzled.  
  
"Well, does she seem like she knows anything?" It's harsh, Allisons feels, but not untrue. She sighs.  
  
"I guess not," she says. Klaus nods sadly.  
  
"She never does anything when Dad punishes us, or when he takes training too far," Five continues, seemingly on a roll. "She's complacent. She does nothing. I think," he pauses a moment. "I think, that I hate her nearly as much as I hate Dad."  
  
"What's she supposed to do?" Allison argues weakly. "She's a robot, Five. She has no choice."  
  
"Which basically means that she's just an extension of _him_ ," he says, venom in his voice. "What makes her any better?"  
  
"Why didn't you want a name, Five?" Klaus interjects quietly. He seems almost sad.  
  
Five looks down. "Why do you think," he returns bitterly.  
  
They don't talk about it anymore. One by one, they drop off to sleep. In the morning, their mother will wake them up and they'll have breakfast and go to training and they won't talk about it. Next Friday they'll huddle up together in Allison's room and talk about nothing again. This is their ritual. This is their thing.  
  
Allison sighs contentedly. They're still three-four-five.  
  
xx  
  
They are thirteen years old. Five is gone. There is no more three-four-five, for real this time. Klaus and Allison hold on to each other tight that night, curled up in Five's room, hoping that he'll come back.  
  
Deep down, they both know he won't.  
  
Allison cracks an eye open as Klaus disentangles himself from her, padding to the window and opening it before reaching into his pyjama pocket and pulling out a rolled joint and a lighter. She watches, miserable, as he lights the end and inhales deeply, eyes fluttering closed.  
  
Five was always much better at keeping Klaus' drug habit under wraps. But Five is gone. Allison doesn't know what to do.  
  
Five does not come back. This, at least, Allison thinks, is predictable.  
  
xx  
  
They are fifteen when Ben dies and Klaus announces his departure to her.  
  
"Allison," he calls, sweeping into her bedroom, and she looks up from her magazine. He's a mess, eyes ringed with dark circles and clothes rumpled. "I have made a decision. I am leaving. Tonight."  
  
Allison blinks at him, stunned. "What do you mean, you're leaving?" she asks. "You can't just leave."  
  
"Oh, I can, and I will," he crows, seeming pleased with himself. "You see, father dearest has found that my unfortunate habit of thievery for drug money isn't in line with our family values! So he's given me until sunrise tomorrow to pack my bags and get out."  
  
Allison's eyes widen. "You mean, you're getting kicked out? Even after--"  
  
"Yes," Klaus says delightedly. "Even after the death of our dearest Number Six! Me and Ben are hitching it out of here."  
  
"Ben and I," she says faintly. "It's... Ben and I."  
  
"Yes, yes, that's the one," her brother says, impatience clear in his tone. "Ben and I, Ben and I. Ben says hi! Oh, that rhymes."  
  
"So you're just leaving me?" Her voice sounds thick with tears she hasn't shed yet. "With my two remaining brothers and Vanya?"  
  
Klaus looks at her, and she hates the pity in his gaze. It makes her want to curl up into a ball and never face the world again. "You wouldn't want to go where I'm going, sister mine," he breathes out. "Not the place for a movie star such as yourself."  
  
She feels something like nausea curling in her stomach, and she forces down the bile rising up her throat. She hates that she knows what he's talking about. She hates that she can't stop him. "Well," she finally says, voice wobbling. "Not even going to hug me goodbye?"  
  
He laughs and twirls over to her, all dark leather and cotton, and embraces her gently, kissing her softly on the forehead. She can smell the alcohol on his breath, and she wants to scream at him, make him stop destroying himself. Instead, she just lets him wrap her in a hug, rocking her back and forth like they're ten years old again, and she can't stop the tears from falling.  
  
"Goodbye, Number Three," he whispers into her hair, and she squeezes her eyes shut. "See you on the other side."  
  
And then, he's gone. Allison goes back to her magazine.  
  
xx  
  
When they are sixteen, Allison runs away from home.  
  
Luther catches her on her way out, a desperate bid for one of his last siblings to remain, now that Diego is gone too, but she just gently removes her arm from his grip.  
  
"Please, Allison," he begs, and she can see the tears glistening in his eyes. "Please stay. I can't do this without you."  
  
"Oh, Luther," she sighs. "I heard a rumour, that you could."  
  
He lets her go, and she gives him one last, sad smile, before disappearing out of the doors. She doesn't look back; not for a very long time.  
  
xx  
  
Three-four-five. This is how they end.


End file.
